Night School
By T. A. Staver
Copyright 2012 T. A. Staver
Cover Art Copyright 2012 Julie Staver
Smashwords Edition
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Night School
1
The cold air smelled damp and musty, like a graveyard. A hand, as hard as iron, gripped my arm. I looked away from my arm, towards the sky. The sun had set and the moon shone full and bright. A thumping beat, like a kettle drum, pounded out a slow rhythm. Looking in the direction of the thudding sound, I saw an elephant lumbering down the hallway. Its tusks were straight and pointy; sharp. The sight filled me with fear, and I closed the lid to the coffin, hoping it would pass by my bedroom without seeing me. As I waited, I pulled a crucifix out of my pants pocket, just in case. I heard a voice speaking in a language dead when Rome was just a village, and I knew that it was Satan, coming to steal my soul. But why did my neck itch so? Hands flying to my collar, I swatted away the mosquitos as large as birds. Satan’s voice grew louder, but not clearer. My neck itched so bad that I thought I would scratch it raw. Satan’s voice grew even louder, and now I could almost make out the words. Suddenly, the casket lid flew off, and I was exposed to the cold light of the moon. Satan’s voice boomed clear as a bell saying “Rodger, your class is ahead. Groove it” Groove it? What did that mean? Was the Devil to blame for disco? And what did my class have to do with it?
I opened my eyes. Not six inches away was Chuck, my vampire acquaintance. He looked angry.
“Dammit Rodger, I thaid get your ath out of bed! Move it!”
“Chuck, what are you doing in my bedroom? How did you get in my house? Why are you yelling in my face? And why,” I pushed myself up and rubbed my eyes, “are you wearing a tuxedo?”
Chuck struggled to control his emotions. When he was excited his fangs protruded and caused him to lisp. I wouldn’t recommend laughing though. The idea of a four hundred pound vampire being mad at me usually dried up any urge to giggle.
“Get your lazy butt out of bed, you need to help me.” Chuck has never shown much in the way of social graces in all of the time I’ve known him. I doubt he knows the word ‘please’. How he had ever succeeded as a salesman I will never know.
“Okay, yeah. Let me at least wake up first. How did you get into my house?” I asked.
Chuck gave me one of his dismissive looks. “Duh, you gave me permission to enter your home. Now hurry up, I don’t have all night.”
“Are you telling me that allowing you into my home once lets you come and go as you please? You didn’t tell me that when you came knocking at my door.” This was scary. Chuck was an interesting acquaintance, but not someone I wanted waltzing into my house whenever he felt like it. “Is there some way we can maybe undo the permission thing? Go to a sort of, I don’t know, as-needed basis perhaps?”
Chuck turned away and started to open drawers in my dresser. “Come on, get your clothes on.” I’ve noticed that Chuck just ignores the questions he doesn’t want to answer: works good for him, not so much for me. I made a mental note to check into the undo-the-permission question.
I swung my legs out of bed and stretched my arms over my head. “So what’s going on?” I asked around a yawn.
“My master is in town. I’m going to see him and ask some questions.” Chuck kept his back to me as he rummaged through my clothes.
I was frozen in my upstretched arms position. “And you think I can do what for you in this situation?” Meeting one vampire was causing stress in my life; meeting his master wasn’t going to lower my blood pressure. “You know, I’m not exactly Van Helsing.”
“For some reason, I didn’t have many friends before I became a vampire.” Chuck could be a Type-A jerk, so his lack of friends didn’t surprise me. As I may have mentioned, Chuck is a very large and grumpy vampire. Pointing out his personality flaws is not something I have any desire to attempt.
“As you can imagine, now that I am a vampire, the prospect of finding new friends has all but dried up. You, my pajama wearing confessor, are the closest thing I have to a friend. I’ll need someone to go with me to even the odds, and you’re the lucky one.” Chuck looked at me over his shoulder. “Don’t you have any clean underwear?”
I jumped out of bed and grabbed some off of the floor. “These are clean, just not put away,” I mumbled under my breath. As I walked to the bathroom, I grabbed jeans and a shirt. “How should I dress?” I asked. “Are we going to be outside or inside or what?”
“Dress warm, we’ll be outside,” Chuck said.
I stopped and turned around. “Why are you wearing a tuxedo?” I asked.
Chuck shot his cuffs. “I want to make a good impression. Get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time to get to our meeting,” Chuck pushed me into the bathroom with a large hand on my shoulder. “I really want to talk to Abarran.”
2
Soon we were in Chuck’s black pickup, blasting down the street at approximately warp speed. Of course, Chuck hadn’t turned on the headlights.
“Uh Chuck, you once told me that you were going to dress appropriately to avoid detection. Don’t you think driving like a NASCAR competitor on a residential street at night with no headlights is a little, watch that mailbox, a little showy?” I had on a seatbelt, but grabbing the dashboard seemed like a reasonable precaution also.
“Don’t be such a sissy,” Chuck said. “I only have a couple of minutes to get where we’re going. I got to pick the location, but Abarran got to pick the time. He told me that if I was even one minute late, he would leave without talking to me.”
“So, where did you choose?” I asked.
“That deserted school at the end of Walnut Street.”
“Oh good,” I said. “That’s only a couple of blocks…” I looked at Chuck. “Are you telling me that you told the vampire that created you, and is not concerned with killing humans, to meet you four blocks away from where I live?!”
“It’s not like I could tell him to meet me where I live,” Chuck said, his face showing confusion at my anger. “How dumb would that be?” O..kay. I decided to let the explanation for that go.
“And how am I supposed to help you ‘even the odds’ in a meeting with Abarran? I don’t know the first thing about fighting a vampire.” The more I thought about this whole mess, the more I saw myself as being the one who ended up hurt. Or dead.
“‘Fighting a vampire’? You’d be about as much help as second belly button.” Chuck looked amused. “I need you for your mind. You have a quick wit and think outside the box. I’ll need that when talking to an old vampire.”
Okay, that sounded much less dangerous. Maybe I could be of use in this meeting.
“So is Abarran really old?” I was imagining some of the stories I had read: Anne Rice; Stephen King. The characters they created seemed worldly and debonair.
“Well, I only saw him, as a vampire, for maybe thirty minutes, forty tops. So I can’t really say how old he is. But, it’s better to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”
Chuck’s use of that particular proverb didn’t elevate my courage. But as a commonsense approach, he could have done worse. Tires crunching across the gravel parking lot, I hoped that it would be enough.
3
“We have about three minutes before he shows,” Chuck said. “Let’s hustle. I suggested we meet in the playground. There’s lots of open space there. We can keep our distance without looking too suspicious about it.”
“Will we have to keep our distance?” I asked. “Are we talking to him or starting a fight?” I trotted to keep up with Chuck, who was setting a fast pace.
“I don’t know,” Chuck admitted. “I like to have all of my options available, and the farther away from him I am, the more time I have to react to whatever he may do.”
“Is there a reason to think that Abarran would be hostile to you?” I asked. “I mean, he did create you. As a vampire, that is.”
Chuck stopped and looked at me. “I can feel him. It’s an irritation. I don’t like having him around. I feel as if something is wrong, and it’s bugging the crap out of me.” He started walking again, heading towards the back of the school.
As we rounded the corner, I sized up the area. The chain-link fence was sagging in some spots, but still surrounded the playground. The only way out, short of climbing the fence, was back the way we had come. There was a swing set (with no swings), a slide (with no ladder), and a teeter-totter (with neither teeter nor totter). Yep, this was most definitely a deserted school yard. I expected to see the gangs from West Side Story start a rumble.
I thought of something. “Hey Chuck, how did Abarran contact you? Did he send you a psychic message? Or did he appear in a dream? I bet you’re attuned to the master’s blood
connection.”
“He called me on the phone. Honestly Rodger, sometimes I wonder about you.” Chuck shook his head.
We walked to the center of the playground and stopped. Chuck stood motionless as I turned in a circle, looking for the visiting vampire.
“Would you stop acting like a weather vane and stand still,” Chuck said in a low voice. “He’s right over there.” I turned to look in the direction he was looking, but I could only see the darkness that was the wall of the school. A shadow separated itself, and moved towards us. It covered half of the distance before shifting into human form. That scared me and caused my heart to start beating faster. I glanced at Chuck, but he hadn’t moved a muscle that I could see. I suddenly wondered if Abarran, as Chuck’s master, could cast a spell over him. The second thought I had was that maybe this vampire-meeting business wasn’t such a good idea for me if I couldn’t think of something that important until it was too late.
Abarran stopped about ten feet away from us; thankfully well outside of my comfort zone. He was short, on the thin side, with a balding head. He wore glasses and had a protruding Adam’s apple. In short, he looked like a nerd.
I glanced at Chuck, starting to think of a funny remark about the geek that had scared me so badly just a few moments before. But he still had not moved, and actually had a furrowed brow that hadn’t been there earlier. I decided to keep my mouth shut.
“My son,” Abarran said. “I am happy to see that you have survived the Gift, and appear to be flourishing.” His voice was high pitched and weak. Why was Chuck so cautious of this guy? “Thank you for the gift, but I have already fed for the night. I do appreciate the gesture, and I applaud you for showing such old-world manners.” Abarran nodded his head once to show his pleasure.
I shot a look at Chuck. What did he mean by gift? Then it came to me: he thought I was a gift! My heart rate accelerated and both vampires looked at me.
“Please stop that,” Chuck said to me. Then turning his head back towards Abarran, he said, “You misunderstand. He is not a gift. He is with me.”
“Ah, a ‘neck’ as the younger generation calls it. But it is rude to only bring one for yourself.” Abarran showed his displeasure with a frown.
This guy thought I was Chuck’s next snack! My fear gave way to anger. I was not a McVampire Happy Meal!
“I’m not anyone’s neck, Dracula!” I all but yelled. “My name is…”
“NOT important,” Chuck said, while giving me a dirty look. “Abarran, I think we are getting off on the wrong foot here. I welcome you, and thank you for the opportunity to ask you some questions.”
Abarran turned to look at me for the first time. His eyes showed no humanity whatsoever. Black eyes, like a doll’s eyes, the quote from Jaws, came to me. My anger evaporated, and I took an involuntary step back. I thought I could restrain myself for a while and let Chuck do the talking.
Abarran returned his attention to Chuck. “Yes, my son. I expect you do have some questions. But first, if I may ask one of you: Why are you wearing a tuxedo?”
I could almost see Chuck blush. “I had thought to dress in a manner fitting for the meeting of someone important,” he ground out in a low voice.
“Maybe you have watched too many movies, my son.” Abarran’s lips twitched, which I assumed was his idea of a smile. “Now, what would you ask me?”
“Are you my master?” Chuck asked.
“Yes, I am,” Abarran responded.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
Abarran rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. “Please answer a few questions for me, and I will then answer yours.
“Did you hear me calling to you with my mind?”
“No.”
“Did you sense my presence in the area?”
“Yes.”
“Does my presence fill you with…completeness, or some other emotion?”
“Actually, it is an irritation, no disrespect intended.”
“None taken. Thank you for your honesty.” Abarran crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid we do not have the appropriate master-underling connection. I thought this might be the case when I could not contact you mentally.”
“What has caused this?” Chuck asked.
“When I gave you the Gift of Blood, I was called by my master, as you may remember.” Chuck looked annoyed as he nodded his head. “I have an appropriate connection to my master, and I was unable to disregard his summons. The unfortunate timing of this has meant that I could not complete your transformation.”
“So, am I a vampire or not?” Chuck asked.
“Yes, you are a vampire. But your blood ties have been compromised. For example, I am connected to my master and to my own clan, that is, those that I have created. Those in my clan are connected to each other in a similar but less intense way. But I am not connected to you in the same fashion. You have no sense of me or the others in your…extended family, if you will. This can be dangerous for a vampire.”
Chuck looked startled. “Will it kill me?” he asked.
“No, it will not affect you in that way. It will be more of a mental danger. Vampires are normally a familial group. Our connections provide a sense of togetherness. One’s clan is most important. It comes before all other things. It provides a master with power and the children with support.
“You will not have that. You will be alone, and have to confront any problems on your own. No others will join a clan with you, for you cannot provide any mutual support.
“You will also have to watch out for other lone vampires. A clan is also a claim on an area, and is the strength for maintaining that claim. You will not have that strength to help you keep your area secure. Drifting vampires will sense your presence, but not the strength of a clan. That may embolden them to hunt in your territory.”
That statement jolted me. It reminded me that this was a creature that killed humans to survive.
“Are there many lone vampires?” asked Chuck.
“No. There are not many vampires period. The potential to live forever is a strong inducement to some. But the actual act of living forever is not so easy. Many vampires that survive the Gift find that they cannot take the rigors of drinking human blood for eternity, or they miss the sun. For these and other reasons, not many survive to the century mark. It is not unusual for a vampire to take that last look at the sun.”
“A form of suicide?” Chuck asked.
Abarran inclined his head and extended his hand. “That is a correct assessment.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
Abarran looked at me with those dead eyes. “I don’t make it a habit to speak to food.”
Yikes.
“Yet the question remains, how old are you?” Chuck asked.
“Next year I will be two hundred years old.”
“How have you survived so long? Don’t you miss the light of day or the company of humans?” Chuck looked intently at Abarran.
“No, I do not. Also, I have never had a problem taking human life. I was actually a murderer and thief before I was granted the Gift. And it has been a gift for me, the ability to play God, no, to be a god, for eternity.”
Double yikes. My thoughts of the suave and debonair vampires from the movies were fast departing. This guy was a psychopathic nerd that couldn’t die. I didn’t think the word monster would be out of line to describe him.
I think Chuck could sense my distress, as he cleared his throat and asked another question to keep Abarran’s attention focused on him.
“How much of the mythology of vampires is real? Does garlic work to keep you, um, us at bay?”
“Garlic does not work, unless you don’t like garlic.” Abarran’s lips twitched again. I think it was his version of a joke. I was too busy racking my brain to find a way out of this with my neck intact to find the humor in it.
“Sanctified ground or objects will repel you. You will find that you cannot enter a church or abide holy water. You can be killed by a stake to the heart or a beheading. Fire will also kill you. Some things are more individual. I cannot be around running water, but some of my children have no problem with it. I have no fear of a crucifix shape, some cannot look upon it. Magic, even black magic such as our existence, is an elastic thing. There are few hard and fast rules.”
“Another question,” Chuck responded. “Is this area yours? I mean, are you the master of the territory I hunt in now?”
Abarran closed his eyes in thought for a moment. “I think the Council would say no, it is not. This territory is not part of a clan. It would be yours until a master claimed it. To do that, a master would have to create another vampire with his own clan connections to take this territory from you, or personally take it.”
“What is the Council?”
“It is a group of the oldest among us, who meet when there are issues to discuss and disputes to settle,” Abarran said. “Their decisions are final, with no appeal.”
“Would my territory be taken by force or by decree?” Chuck asked.
“By force. You would most likely have to be killed by another vampire for them to lay claim to your territory.”
“So my rights are less than a clan vampire? Is this correct?” Chuck stood up straight as he asked this last question.
“Unfortunately, you are correct. Through no fault of your own, you are considered a lone vampire. No one will kill you unnecessarily, and if you encounter an understanding master, you may be asked to move. But where would you go? You cannot join another clan, as I said earlier.”
“Another question, if I may master: why do I lisp when my fangs protrude? It is quite embarrassing,” Chuck asked.
Abarran smiled. “It has happened more than you know, my son. It is because of the shape of your tongue. Just bite it with your fangs, and that will correct the problem.”
“Won’t my tongue just grow back? Whenever I have damaged myself, it heals to the exact way it was before the injury.” I hadn’t known that Chuck had injured himself. I made a note to ask him later, if I survived.
“Any damage done by your fangs won’t grow back. Some of the older ones have scars from…disagreements with other vampires.”
Chuck narrowed his eyes in concentration, and suddenly his fangs protruded from his lips. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and without pausing, he bit down.
“Ouch!” Chuck yelled. “Dammit, that hurt!”
“Chuck, you don’t have a lisp,” I observed.
“Yeah, but that hurt. A lot.” Chuck wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to remove the small amount of blood that had escaped his mouth. I looked at Abarran, and stumbled backwards. His full attention was focused on Chuck’s bleeding mouth. Abarran’s eyes had dilated so much that they appeared to be solid black.
“Perhaps I will partake of your human slave,” Abarran said. “I seem to have recovered my appetite.”
Not good. Not good at all. I eased myself back a step. I didn’t think I could outrun Abarran, but I was sure going to try. My heart started to pound, and I felt sweat breaking out on my brow. I don’t mind saying that I was scared out of my wits.
“Oh, I like that,” Abarran said. He turned his attention towards me. Other than the shape of his body, there was nothing human about him now. He was pure predator.
Chuck was dabbing at his mouth with his left hand, and held his right hand out like a distracted traffic cop signaling a stop. “Hold on there, Abarran. This human is under my protection.” I was hoping that Chuck would take this a little more seriously. He didn’t even look like he was paying attention.
“I will take what I desire, underling,” Abarran intoned. He advanced a step towards me, a smile slowly appearing on his face. I tripped on something and went over onto my rump. The gravel dug into my hands as I crabbed backwards on the ground. Abarran continued to advance. “I am the master here,” he said in a lower tone.
“Yeah, about that master crap, I don’t think so,” Chuck said. “You just told me that I was a ‘lone vampire’, and that we didn’t have an ‘appropriate master-underling connection’. So I’m thinking that this is my territory, and I’m the boss in my territory.”
Thank goodness, Chuck had tumbled to what was happening. Now if only he could get between me and a two hundred year old vampire, I’d start to get my hyperventilation under control.
Abarran stopped and turned towards Chuck. “You would question me on this? You would tell me what to do? I, who created you? You overstep your bounds, youngling.”
With his turning, I took the opportunity to scoot back a couple of more feet. As I did, Chuck moved into the gap I had created. His bulk had never looked so good.
“I don’t like you, Abarran. You bit me and turned me into a vampire without giving me a choice in the matter. You didn’t give me a gift; you gave me a curse.”
“A curse?! Are you a fool? I have given you the gift of immortality! You are a god compared to this human that you so foolishly attempt to protect.”
“I am infused with a demonic magic,” Chuck shot back. “My soul is in danger of damnation, I have to drink blood to keep from dying, and I can’t even look at the sun anymore. You think this is a good thing?”
Abarran stood with his arms crossed, his chin jutting in Chuck’s direction. “No, I think it is the best thing. I have traveled the globe, explored everything on this earth that is of interest. I have drunk the blood of every nationality this world has to offer. There is nowhere I have not been.”
“And yet you have not developed beyond what you were two hundred years ago; a murderer.” Chuck had crossed his arms also. His bulk loomed over Abarran like a wall.
“Bah. Does the lion murder the antelope? No, it hunts the antelope. I do not so much murder humans as I hunt them. That is the difference.”
Chuck suddenly looked into the distance, as if he were thinking of something. “Hunting,” he murmured to himself. Then he shook himself and the far-away look left his eyes. “That’s nothing but semantics, old man. You say tomato, I say tomahto. As far as I can tell, you are nothing but the devil’s tool here on earth, spreading death wherever you go.”
Abarran looked at Chuck with narrowed eyes. “How do you feed,” he quietly asked himself. “If you did not take human blood, you would be either dead or suffering madness.” Abarran studied Chuck for a moment. “I believe this hate comes from guilt, the guilt of killing humans.” He moved back a step to more fully look into Chuck’s face. “You will not last long, vampire, if you continue to hate what you are. You are a hunter. Humans are prey. Those are the facts of your existence. If you cannot reconcile these things, one day you will ‘look at the sun’. I think that it won’t be too many years and I will come back and create another vampire to take your place after you are gone. Then I can add this territory to my own. Until then, I have all of the time in the world to wait.”
With that, Abarran turned on his heel, and walked away. As he neared the darkness of the school, he seemed to turn into a shadow, and blend with the inky blackness. It was creepy and cool at the same time.
I was still on the ground, my hands hurting from the gravel. “Do you think it’s safe to get up now?” I asked Chuck.
“Yeah,” he said with a weary sound to his voice. “I think we’re good.”
I stood and wiped my hands on my pants. “Uh, I don’t think I did much good here tonight. Sorry, Chuck.”
“I shouldn’t have brought you,” Chuck said.
“You know what? You’re right! You shouldn’t have brought me here tonight. I could have been killed by that homicidal maniac! What were you thinking?”
Chuck looked down his nose at me. “Put a lid on it Rodger. I am a vampire.”
I shut up, but grumbled under my breath the whole way back to Chuck’s truck.
4
As we climbed into Chuck’s truck, I thought of something.
“What were you thinking about when Abarran talked about hunting? You had a funny look on your face, kind of like you were a million miles away for a couple of seconds. And if I may say, that was a most inappropriate time to be a million miles away. He still scares me.” I was figuring that I would be having nightmares about him for the foreseeable future.
Chuck turned the ignition, but sat back as the truck idled. “Remember when we talked last time, and we discussed how I was going to obtain blood? I don’t particularly want to feed on humans, but drinking bags of blood from the Red Cross or catching small animals wasn’t doing it for me. It never satisfied my hunger. It kept me alive, but that was about all I could say for it.”
“I remember,” I said. “I was just throwing ideas out there. I didn’t think you would actually live on the blood of animals.”
“Well, I have been. As time passed, I moved up to larger animals, like cows and sheep. Not much better than the smaller animals.
“One night, as I was heading for the local herd of cows, a wolf crossed my path. Her ears flattened to her head, and she growled at me. She was afraid of me, but still wanted to fight for the cows. I believe she needed to take food to her pups.” Chuck shook his head. “That’s not important. But what is important is that we fought. The female had no chance against me, but that didn’t matter: she fought. And when I drank her blood, it was like nectar! It filled me as nothing else had. I thought that I had found a new source of sustenance for vampires.
“From that night forward, I hunted wolves. There are few in this area, so it’s a challenge. It came to pass that a night arrived that I couldn’t find a wolf. Desperate for nourishment, I caught a coyote. It wasn’t as fierce as a wolf, and realized that I posed a threat to its existence. It tried to run from me, but I caught it. And low and behold, its blood satisfied me also! I was confused. How could both animals have blood that sustained me?”
“Was it because they were both mammals?” I asked.
“No, the cows didn’t satisfy my hunger, and they were mammals.”
I sat back and thought. “Did the cows run from you when you drank their blood?”
Chuck smiled. “I knew you could figure it out. No, the cows were startled and a little distressed, but they didn’t realize that I could end their lives. The wolves and the coyote, they knew that I was a predator, and acted accordingly.”
“So it’s not just the blood, is that what you’re saying?”
“Exactly. The hunt, the chase, and the emotions that are involved: that is what makes the blood nourishing to me. Drinking blood alone will not keep me alive. The being I drink from must realize that I threaten its life.”
Chuck put the truck in gear and drove us to my house.
5
We drove in silence. We walked to my front step in silence. We entered my house and sat down in silence. Chuck, of course, picked the comfortable chair.
I cleared my throat. “Where did you find that tux?” I asked.
Chuck laughed. “One of the things I can count on is never changing my size. I had my measurements from suits I had bought when I was a salesman, and I ordered it on the internet.” Chuck raised his arms out to the sides. “Pretty bad, huh?” He let his arms drop back down. “What can I say? I’ve never met another vampire before. I didn’t know what the niceties were.”
“Well, you’re all set if you get invited to a wedding or attend a funeral.” My smile vanished. “Do you think that Abarran will come back? I don’t particularly want to meet him again.”
“I don’t know. I can’t feel his presence anymore, so I’m assuming he’s gone back to where ever it is he came from. I don’t like him, but I don’t wish him harm. I just hope he stays away and I don’t have to make a decision as to whether to fight him or not. In a fight or flight situation, I’m usually a fight type of guy. I seriously don’t know if I could beat him.”
“What are you talking about? You have at least three hundred pounds on the guy.” I had presumed that Chuck could mop the floor with the little runt.
“Rodger, he’s two hundred years old. He radiated a sense of superiority that is hard to describe. His presence irritated me, but it also made me know how that coyote felt. It was all I could do to not submit to him. But when he threatened you, that pissed me off, and then I knew how the wolf felt. Maybe I wouldn’t win, but I wasn’t going to take any crap from him.” Chuck looked at the floor. “He caused me to have very conflicting emotions.” He looked up at me. “I am very glad that I don’t have a strong connection to him. He could use me like his personal puppet and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”
I could tell that the idea of Abarran controlling his will scared Chuck. Having Abarran do whatever he pleased with any aspect of my life made me weak in the knees just to think about. I doubt that there was much humanity in his personality before he became a vampire. Two hundred years of killing humans removed any semblance of caring about anything other than his next source of blood.
“Allow me to change the subject,” I said. “What are your thoughts about the whole ‘I-can-kill-you, fear-me, tastes-great’ idea? Why would that make any difference whatsoever in the…nutritional value of the blood you drink?”
Chuck rubbed his chin in a cliché of thoughtfulness. “I think it has to do with the black magic, demonic aspect of the vampire curse. If you think about it, most of the black magic spells you read about in literature feature some form of blood sacrifice. It also seems to me that in any story I’ve heard about humans interacting with demonic figures, there is fear. I think that demon magic requires fear as much as blood. It could be thought of as feeding twice: once by blood and again psychically.”
I thought that sounded very close to the truth. I remembered the response I got every time I was frightened in the meeting with Abarran. He could sense my fear. And he reacted like a shark smelling blood.
“So, if someone didn’t fear you, would that affect how you reacted to that person?” I was working on an idea.
Chuck paused. “I haven’t thought of that, but that would be logical. If there is anything logical about the supernatural, that is.”
“Okay, try this on for size: a truly religious person wouldn’t have a fear of death, so wouldn’t be afraid of dying by a vampire’s hand. In that case, the blood from a religious person, such as a priest, wouldn’t be filling. Could it be that the fear from religious objects comes from an evolutionary step to avoid blood that can’t feed a vampire?”
“Hmm, no, I think it comes from the fact that an institution like the Catholic Church has the ability to counteract the supernatural. Fight fire with fire, if you will.” Chuck rubbed his chin again. “There would be no reason to kill a religious person, other than for spite or self-defense. If other vampires are anything like me, there isn’t a desire to kill something just to kill it. I only have the desire to feed, which causes me to kill. Of course, if a vampire was like Abarran, all bets are off. He was a psychopath before he became a vampire.” Chuck caused my chair to groan in protest as he leaned back in thought. “I’ll have to think about this idea some more. Thanks Rodger, I knew I could count on you for some mental bone to chew on.”
I yawned. “Chuck, the next time you have something planned, do you think you could schedule it for a night when I don’t have to work the next day? I’m beat. I was sleeping before all of this if you remember.”
Chuck stood. “You’re right. I did interrupt your sleep. Thanks for helping me work through my vampireness, Rodger. You’re more help than you can imagine. And now that I won’t be getting any more answers out of Abarran, I’ll probably be by more often to bounce ideas off of you. Sweet dreams Rodger; don’t let the Abarran bite.” Chuck strode to the door and was through it in a breathtakingly short time. By the time I got to the door and looked out, he was in his truck. It started with a roar and he was careening down the street, running the stop sign as he turned the corner. No lights, as usual.
Don’t let the Abarran bite. Thanks to Chuck, that maniac was back in my head, just in time for a complete set of nightmares. I mean really, did he have to say that on his way out?
“Never a dull moment,” I muttered to myself as I headed back to my bed, throwing clothes on the floor as I went.
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About the author:
T. A. Staver lives in IL with his wonderful wife (who puts up with his crazy writing habit), evil cat (who allows him to take care of it), and whichever of his children happen to be home at the time (who he is happy to see).
You can see more of his work at Smashwords, or at his website tastaver.weebly.com